Chapter 16: The Seal of Chunin
Just as a low hum of conversation filled the central tower, a Jonin suddenly materialized before the assembled Genin. A wave of potent chakra and palpable killing intent rolled off him, silencing the room instantly.
The Jonin's gaze swept indifferently over the crowd. "Does anyone wish to withdraw?" he asked, his voice flat. "The next phase consists of one-on-one combat. Withdrawing will not affect your teammates' standing."
Unsurprisingly, no one was intimidated into leaving. A tense silence held.
The Jonin showed no reaction. "I will now draw names. Those called will remain to fight. I will serve as referee. If I determine you are defeated, I will stop the match."
With that, he vanished, reappearing at the highest observation point. Someone began drawing lots. Two names were read aloud. The chosen Genin stayed on the main floor while the others were directed to the stairways to observe from above.
Akatsurugi observed the matches. The overall quality of the Genin was decent, but compared to himself, the gap was significant. He quickly lost interest.
This tedious selection process was necessary, however. The observing Jonin would judge each participant's performance to determine their suitability for promotion.
Finally, Akatsurugi's name was called. He leaped down from the stands. His opponent was a Genin from the Hyūga clan, Hyūga Fūka.
Hyūga Fūka's Byakugan was already active, the veins around his eyes bulging as he fixed his gaze on Akatsurugi.
The Jonin referee materialized between them. "Begin!" he declared, then vanished to the sidelines.
Akatsurugi knew better than to engage a Hyūga in close combat. The Byakugan could see chakra pathways, and the Gentle Fist could easily seal them. Until one possessed tailed beast-level chakra, being struck by the Gentle Fist was a severe disadvantage—just look at Naruto's early fights.
Creating distance, Akatsurugi began forming hand seals. Hyūga Fūka was already closing in, striking out with a palm thrust from several feet away.
"Fire Style: Great Fireball Technique!" Akatsurugi exhaled, and a massive orb of flame roared towards Hyūga Fūka.
Instead of dodging, Hyūga Fūka's body seemed to erupt with chakra. A visible, pale blue aura sharpened around his palms like blades, cleanly bisecting the fireball. He continued his charge unimpeded.
The confined space of the arena limited Akatsurugi's mobility. He sidestepped rapidly, his hands already weaving another set of seals. "Fire Style: Fire Dragon Projectile!" A roaring dragon of fire surged towards the advancing Hyūga.
This time, Hyūga Fūka's expression shifted. He began to evade. Seizing the moment, Akatsurugi planted his feet, hands flashing through another sequence. "Fire Style: Phoenix Sage Fire Technique!" A volley of smaller, irregular fireballs shot forth, homing in on Fūka from multiple angles.
Gritting his teeth, Hyūga Fūka shouted, "Eight Trigrams Palms Revolving Heaven!"
A dome of swirling, light blue chakra enveloped him, deflecting every one of Akatsurugi's fireballs.
He can use the Revolving Heaven? Akatsurugi was mildly impressed. This Hyūga was a genuine prodigy. If he knew the Revolving Heaven, he likely also knew the Sixty-Four Palms technique. Close quarters were absolutely out of the question.
As Hyūga Fūka closed in again, Akatsurugi began circling, simultaneously unstrapping Ryūjin Jakka from his back. With a fluid motion, he activated Konoha Ryū.
Hyūga Fūka faltered for a split second, stunned by the genjutsu overlay. It was the opening Akatsurugi needed. He leaped, bringing his sealed sword down in a powerful slash.
But in that instant, Hyūga Fūka spun violently once more. "Revolving Heaven!" The chakra dome erupted again, deflecting the blade and throwing Akatsurugi back.
Akatsurugi landed, recalibrating. Of course. The Byakugan can see chakra flow clearly. He saw through the genjutsu component and was ready for it. Using illusions against a Hyūga was a tricky prospect.
"Now I have you!" Hyūga Fūka closed the distance rapidly. Akatsurugi was just regaining his footing. "Eight Trigrams: Sixty-Four Palms!" Dozens of chakra-laden strikes targeted every major chakra point on Akatsurugi's body.
Akatsurugi's hands, however, were already moving. He showed no panic. Taking a deep, steadying breath, he roared, "Fire Style: Great Fire Annihilation!"
A vast, roaring conflagration erupted from his mouth, a tidal wave of flame that utterly engulfed Hyūga Fūka and his intricate palm technique.
Hyūga Fūka's eyes widened in shock. How can a Genin possess a Fire Release technique of this magnitude?!
Of course, Akatsurugi's "Great Fire Annihilation" was a pale shadow of Uchiha Madara's legendary feat. It was merely a large, if intense, sea of fire, lacking any advanced nature transformation. But for this level of combat, it was overwhelming.
The Jonin referee appeared in a flash before Hyūga Fūka. His hands slammed onto the ground. "Earth Style: Earth-Style Wall!" A massive, fortress-like rampart of earth erupted, meeting the wave of fire head-on and containing its fury.
Akatsurugi cut off his chakra flow, breathing heavily. That single technique had consumed over two-thirds of his reserves.
"Winner: Akatsurugi!" the Jonin announced, dispelling the earth wall with a casual gesture.
Akatsurugi nodded in acknowledgment and leaped back to the spectator stands. Hyūga Fūka cast one last, complex look at him before turning to leave.
The matches continued, but Akatsurugi's part was done. He applied for an early dismissal. Final promotion rested with the collective judgment of the Jonin council.
Clearly, his display of high-level Fire Release had been convincing. Akatsurugi was officially promoted to Chunin of Konoha and presented with the standard, slightly drab, flak jacket.
Slipping it on, he had to admit it was unflattering, but it offered decent protective utility.
Kosuke was genuinely happy for him. Having lived together for years, he saw Akatsurugi as a younger brother. His success felt like a personal victory.
To celebrate, the two enjoyed a hearty meal at Konoha's favorite barbecue spot.
Back at home, Kosuke grew serious. "Akatsurugi, you're a Chunin now. The village may assign you more dangerous missions. You must be careful. Don't follow my path. I am a cautionary tale."
Akatsurugi nodded soberly. He understood. A Chunin wasn't a Genin. There were annual mission quotas and expectations. Sometimes the village assigned missions directly. It was like a lottery—get lucky, and it's fine; get unlucky, and your name ends up on the Memorial Stone.
"I won't say more. From now on, you are a true shinobi." Kosuke patted Akatsurugi's shoulder, his sigh carrying the weight of experience. After all, he had watched this boy grow into the ninja standing before him.